


darkness brings evil things (oh the reckoning begins)

by chemicalpixie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, M/M, Multi, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 01:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalpixie/pseuds/chemicalpixie
Summary: “jyn doesn't know what to do when she hears torin erso, because she hasn't been that little boy (she hasn't been torin erso) in years, and suddenly the memories of that little boy who hid and was raised by saw and finally got up the courage to tell him that she wasn't torin, she was jyn and she was she come flooding back.“my name is jyn erso, and i am his daughter,” she spits fiercely. she is not torin, and she will never be torin again.”or; the story of jyn erso, galen erso's daughter (not his son).





	darkness brings evil things (oh the reckoning begins)

**Author's Note:**

> i started this right after i saw rogue one, and now it's finally here. i'm free. also trans girl jyn is my entire life and you can fight me about it if you want. i'm a sucker for star wars gays, so i threw the ot3 and chirrut/baze in here too. 
> 
> the title hails from lord huron's “the yawning grave”, though i wrote this listening to that along with ryn weaver's “new constellations” and sunset rubdown's “nightingale / decemeber song”. all three fit the feeling of this fic pretty well. please kudos and comment if you enjoy!

“you are torin erso, the son of galen erso. is that correct?” the man leans his arms on the table and smirks, satisfied. jyn doesn't know what to do when she hears torin erso, because she hasn't been that little boy (she hasn't been torin erso) in years, and suddenly the memories of that little boy who hid and was raised by saw and finally got up the courage to tell him that she wasn't torin, she was jyn and she was she come flooding back.

“my name is jyn erso, and i am his daughter,” she spits fiercely. she is not torin, and she will never be torin again.

the man's expression doesn't change. “this is captain assian andor. you and he will find your father. the weapon he is developing for the empire is very dangerous, and we want him in our custody rather than theirs.”

a man steps out of the shadows. he's tall and lanky, with stubble and he grins at her. “hello, jyn.”

//

somehow they end up in a city where the empire is mining crystals for their weapon and the goddamned droid has to stay on the ship, thank god, and then there's an explosion, and in the middle of it is a child, sobbing, and jyn remembers torin silently sobbing as the shots echoed in the valley and she runs, because she has to save this child she has to she has to she _has_ to. and then there's shots firing and dirt hitting her cheek and the child's mother rushes up, thanking jyn before running again, and then cassian is beside her. she can see something about him, something that he doesn’t seem to know he’s doing. he is tough, but he is beautiful, somehow, in this light. jyn shakes her head. she does not have time for this.

“what were you thinking?” he hisses in her ear, and then they're running and there are stormtroopers and then as soon as jyn and cassian think they are safe, there's the goddamned droid again, and jyn just sighs. this has been a very long day.

more stormtroopers round the corner and as they threaten to take that goddamned droid away for reprogramming (maybe this day is improving, just a little) the monk who was sitting quietly before manages to kill the entire squad and then when a new squad rounds the corner, gunshots ring out and then the monk grins to himself before shouting “you almost shot me.”

the man who steps out of the shadows looks like he could kill an entire stormtrooper squadron without the aid of his weapon. “yeah, but i didn't,” he says, and jyn can tell that beneath his teasing tone is a vein of legitimate affection that means “i could never hurt you.”

“thank you,” cassian says, and the monk turns to them as the goddamned droid is removing their cuffs and actually being useful for once.

“i am chirrut imwe,” the monk says to cassian and jyn. the other man has moved to stand beside him. “this is my husband, baze malbus. and you two are?”

“i'm cassian andor. i was here to meet with - ” cassian is cut off as a bag is shoved over his head. the rebels are not pleased with what jyn and cassian have done. she knows this is the rebels' doing. the empire would at least have the decency to shoot them outright.

“i'm jyn erso, galen erso's daughter! take me to see saw, he knows me, please,” jyn begs from under the hood. many criminals are too proud to beg, but in jyn's experience, that just gets you killed.

“we'll see about that,” jyn's captors mutter.

//

saw squints in confusion when she's ushered into the room. it isn't exactly the reunion she'd pictured. since she's seen him last, he's lost another limb and his breathing is rough and ragged.

“jyn? is it really you?” he asks, and jyn nods.

“yes. it's me,”

“i've missed you so much,” he says, tears beginning to fall down his face and he takes a step toward her, to hug her, and jyn shies away.

“you left me in a bunker and told me to come out when it was daylight,” she says. “you left me.”

his face clouds over and his tears fall more steadily now. “it was a war. i wanted you to be safe,” he says.

“you left me,” she insists. it has been all she has thought when she thinks about him since then.

“i'm sorry,” he says. “i've thought of you every day for years. but what brings you here, jyn, my girl?”

“the resistance, they have a pilot here. he's going to take me to rescue my father,” she says, and saw's eyes soften.

“i have a message from you,” he says. “from your father.”

and he turns on the hologram and she's sobbing at the message and how much she still loves him (even though she's tried to forget, she's tried she's tried she's _tried_ ) and even though he calls her torin she still wants to cry, because when she meets him she'll be able to tell him that it's jyn and he'll know _her_ and god, has she missed him.

the walls shake. something is coming. cassian bursts into the room, dragging a man she doesn't recognize along by one hand. he’s followed by chirrut and baze.

“we have to get to the ship,” cassian says, but his voice is gentle, and jyn glances out the window and the city is collapsing in on itself in a giant cloud of dust. she glances back at saw, whose mechanical legs and slow. he takes a long breath from his machine.

“leave me behind. go,” he says and jyn turns and runs. she doesn't look back. if she looks back (even after they can't hear the city collapsing anymore, even when the ship is in hyperspeed, even when the sound of the dying city is nothing but an echo in her ears) she will see that city in her dreams, and saw will blame her for not saving him. she wants him to be at peace. she should give him that, at least. even though he left her, he still did his best to raise her. she won't let him haunt her. he will be at peace.

//

the planet where her father is is nothing but rain. cassian takes bodhi and goes, and jyn is left in the ship with chirrut and baze.

“so,” chirrut says, leaning into baze's side. they are familier with one another in the ways of old married couples. it would be sweet if it did not seem like they were going to team up on her. “bodhi tells me that galen erso does not have a daughter.”

jyn curses under her breath. “i am his daughter,” she insists, and chirrut smiles like he knows a secret.

“were you always?” baze asks, with surprising gentleness. jyn sighs a long sigh, mentally cursing bodhi to hell a thousand different ways.

“no,” she says. “i was once called torin erso. i was once galen erso's son.”

chirrut nods like he's known this all along, and smiles at baze. “that boy, cassian,” he says to baze. “he didn't seem like a killer.”

“what do you mean?” jyn asks, frantic.

“the force surrounds him, and it is dark. the force being dark marks you as a killer,” chirrut explains.

“my father,” jyn hisses, and rushes out into the darkness. it is dark, and wet, and she can’t see worth shit, but she has to find cassian. she has to.

and then she finds him, blaster aimed, oh so precariously at her father’s skull.

“you can’t kill him,” she begs. “please, cassian. please.” he doesn’t lower the rifle. he does not pull the trigger. it is an in-between. jyn knows she cannot live here for long, in this land, where there is no choice and no blood on her father’s crisp uniform shirt, but she wants to. she would live out the rest of her life in this in-between land if it meant her father could live. and then, there is blood on his shirt and jyn wants to scream, but she’s never been quite _that_ stupid, so she doesn’t, but the blood isn’t his and his engineers are dead.

“go,” cassian whispers, and jyn runs to him, stumbling down a ladder to where he stands, alone. there are ships exploding in the stars like skies, but all jyn can focus on his her father, and he’s _here_. and jyn’s world _burns_.

//

when she wakes, she is curled up in a heap, and she keeps still, careful-still, until they leave and it is then that she rushes to her father, who lays near her and she’s crying, crying with no restraints, the tears dripping down her face.

“papa,” she whispers. “papa, it’s me. torin.” the name chokes her, but he looks up at her and smiles weakly. he is dying, this she knows. this she does not want to know. “papa, i want you to know. it’s still me. i’m not torin anymore. i’m your daughter. i’m jyn.” she is afraid, even as the words stumble like drunken soldiers out of her mouth. he will not understand. he will reject her, curse her with his dying breath (and after all, the curses of the dying tend to linger far longer than those of the still-breathing).

his eyes hold understanding. “jyn,” he whispers, his voice rough and low. breathing is an effort for him, so how much time does talking cost him? it was worth it, she thinks, worth another minute or three or ten with him breathing just to hear him call her jyn. it is all she has dreamed of. “stardust,” he whispers, and her eyes burn with tears. his eyes creep shut and his body shudders.

“i’ve seen your message, papa. i’ve seen it. the hologram,” she says, trying to keep him from closing his eyes. if he closes his eyes, he will be gone. and not taken-gone, the way he was when jyn was seven and they came, but gone-gone, gone somewhere jyn can never go, no matter how far she flies.

“it must be destroyed,” he whispers, voice low and rasping. each word costs him time, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“i know,” jyn says, “papa, i know. we will. we’ll destroy it.” these are not false promises. she will destroy it, destroy his own creation and the thing that killed him.

“jyn,” he murmurs, putting his hand on her face. “look at you. my daughter. i have so much to tell you.” these are said with a certain kind of finality, the kind that means there is an ending, and it is nigh. jyn weeps. the words “my daughter” are heavy with pride. his hand falls and his eyes close, and jyn is alone with the rain and her tears.

“papa,” she weeps. “no, please. papa,” she cries, begging. she shakes him, hoping he will open his eyes and come back, hoping beyond all hope. and then there is cassian, rough hand on her elbow, dragging her off.

“come on,” he says, and jyn follows.

//

they make it back to the ship, but only barely.

“you went out there to kill my father,” jyn says, tears still burning in her eyes. her voice is harsh. this is not a question. it is an accusation.

“i had every chance to pull the trigger. did i?” he asks. there is no denial. he is beyond this, here, today, and so is she. there is no denying what they both know to be true.

“only because someone else did it first,” jyn snaps. “you might as well have killed him.”

“but i didn’t,” cassian says, voice calm. “i had orders, jyn, and i disobeyed them. i had orders to kill him. that is not something you would understand.”

“orders that you know are wrong?” jyn hisses. she is not above a low blow. she sneers. “you might as well be a stormtrooper.”

“what do you know?” he snaps at her. “we don’t all have the privilege of deciding when and where to care about things,” he says, voice harsh. “you had the privilege of only caring about your father, and now, suddenly, the rebellion is real for you. some of us _live_ it.”

bodhi steps out of the shadows. “i lost everything, jyn. they took everything i cared about. i was raised an orphan, in an imperial city with no one but my twin sister. she’s _dead_ , jyn. my twin sister died in one of their ships because _they don’t care_. we were both there, and she died, and it isn’t fair. i should be dead.” jyn’s speechless. she wants to speak, but the words won’t come.

“my father is dead, jyn, and i’ve been in this fight since i was six years old,” cassian says, voice low and terrifying. “and people like your father are the reason why.” chirrut and baze stay silent, hands entwined. they are still alive and together. they do not speak. they have not yet lost what means most to them.

“you can’t talk your way around this,” jyn hisses. “you were going to kill my father. you know the men who killed your father, cassian, and the men who killed your sister, bodhi? you were going to be that man to me. you didn’t even have the courage to pull the trigger, and you are that man for me. those were alliance bombs.”

“i don’t have to talk my way around this,” cassian sneers. “i was going to kill your father, but i didn’t. that should be enough for you. it was for me.”

he turns and walks away. jyn lets him. bodhi comes to her, and holds her hand, his thumb running across her knuckles. they don’t speak. it is easier that way.

//

at the base, they do not believe her. they sneer at her. “you are his daughter, not his son. galen erso did not have a son, this i know, so how do we know if you are simply making it all up?” this comes from a sandy-haired man she does not know.

jyn fights the urge to scream. she was afraid this would come. “this is the time to fight,” she pleads. “i am galen erso’s daughter, i swear this to you. do you wish the galaxy to an eternity of submission? rebellions are built on hope. send your best troops to scarif. get the plans. you can stop this.”

“we cannot,” the blonde man says again. “scarif is a death trap. we cannot say yes to this.” the other rebel leaders agree, and jyn waits for one for one of them to say something else, to dissent. none of them do. bodhi is standing behind her, and he reaches for jyn’s hand. she lets him have it, the soft pressure of his hand in her own soothing her.  
“fine,” jyn says. “when people die from this, a year from now, or two, or a thousand, i hope i will be the ghost of a prophet, haunting you. you will know you could have stopped this. and you chose not to.” she storms from the room, bodhi by her side.

“i am cassandra,” she whispers. “i saw the fall of troy, and no one listened.” bodhi stands beside her. cassian walks up to her, sees the tears marring her face, and he wipes them away, one rough hand on her face. he has been in this a long time, and she can see it in his eyes. bodhi takes cassian’s hand, and everything about this feels right. jyn sees it then, a year from now, two, the three of them, buried in a grave together, the gravestone reading “they had loved each other the way marc antony and cleopatra did - to the grave”. she loves them, this she knows, but she also knows she will never grow old, and she thinks that cassian and bodhi were born with a timer above their heads, counting down the days until they will die. it is a two digit number, now. they will never grow old, they will never love in the way of chirrut and baze, in the way of loves that last a lifetime. they will never grow old, and neither will she. it is the prophecy she was born with, and it is then jyn realizes she has never chosen a middle name. jyn cassandra erso, that sounds right, sounds fitting. she is the rebel’s cassandra, and she warned them.

“jyn,” cassian says, voice breaking the heavy silence that comes when you realize you love someone. “there is a group of rebels. they will go into scarif with you. with me. with us,” he amends, looking at bodhi. it is a suicide mission. they will go in, and never come out.

jyn nods, holding the hands of both bodhi and cassian. this is their time. they will fall like lovers do, like lovers have always done. they are romeo and juliet, dying to change the world, they are marc antony and cleopatra, they are tristan and isolde. she is eurydice, and they are orpheus, following her song, following her into death.

“let’s do it,” jyn says softly. “will you come?” this is what she says. it means “i love you.”

“yes,” bodhi says. it means, “i love you too.”

“i would follow you anywhere,” cassian says, and he is looking at jyn, but both jyn and bodhi know he means bodi too. it is the closest to i love you any of them has ever said. it is the closest they will ever come.

//

at scarif, bodhi uses his old passwords to get them through the forcefield. and when they land, jyn takes cassian’s hand and rushes out of the ship, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to bodhi’s lips. bodhi kisses her back, and it feels like home on this foreign planet, and jyn knows all she wants in that moment is the promise of them all alive when this is over. she wants to weep because she knows, there is a feeling deep in her bones, that the three of them will die long before they ever find a place together to call home.

“go,” bodhi says. he says it like a promise, and they go.

//

they get the plans, and they hear, over the comms, the screaming. chirrut dies first, in the arms of his husband, and jyn knows that funeral will be sad, she knows, she thinks about how they will weep for chirrut, killed for the plans on scarif. and then there is bodhi’s voice, telling them the forcefield is down, they can transmit the plans, and then his voice is gone, an explosion in his place, and baze is there instead, grimly telling them that bodhi is gone and that he is going to die next. it takes everything jyn has not to weep. but they find the plans, and then cassian _falls_ and he is gone, jyn is alone, she is the last one standing in a demolished city, she is the only one left to speak. the place that cassian and bodhi had so recently carved out in her heart is empty, and she aches, and she is alone with the general on the top of the building, and she thinks that as long as the plans get out, she wouldn’t mind dying. she thinks that love is cruel, that it is set up as cruel and could never be anything else, otherwise why would you love someone when they are gone?

and the general falls, and cassian is there, with her, and he whispers in her ear, holding her, “i know, i know.” and he knows what is coming, for he’s overheard them. if she is cassandra, he is moses, the prophet and deliverer, and bodhi is eurydice, the one they will follow into death. there is a flash of light as they lay by his body, cold. he is not the bodhi they know, and he will never be again. jyn sees their gravestone again, the three bodies huddled together, and she knows she will not walk into death alone.  
“cassian?” she murmurs. the light is coming for her. for them. it will take them, and it will take her home. she blinks, for a moment, imagines a wedding, her dressed in all white, saw and her father standing by with pride, bodhi and cassian in suits. this is what heaven is like, she thinks, and then cassian answers her, shaking her out of her dearm of what could never be.

“hm?” he says, and jyn looks at him, a soft sad smile across her lips, and the light comes closer.

“i’m sorry,” she says, and she feels the press of his hand in hers and bodhi’s cooling body on her back and the light is no longer coming; it is here and the last thing jyn knows is that she loves bodhi and cassian more than she’s ever loved anything else.


End file.
